


It's Not In The Cards

by stealing_your_kittens



Series: Denial [2]
Category: Yonderland (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25586749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealing_your_kittens/pseuds/stealing_your_kittens
Summary: Set some months after Not Just A River. Admitting things to yourself doesn't have to be the same as following through on them. Debbie's trying to keep herself in check as much as possible, it's not always easy.
Relationships: Debbie Maddox/Negatus
Series: Denial [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854490
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	It's Not In The Cards

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, my brain wants to do a bunch of loosely connected one shots where everything remotely cool and action-y happens offscreen, instead of a whole fic. Sorry about that. They probably won't all be chronological, either.

Debbie silently admitted it was foolish to force James along on this mission when she saw the Wanted posters starting at the edge of town.

_Wanted_

_Dead_

_Jay E Negatus_

_1000 gold what-not reward_

Followed by a thankfully unflattering artist’s rendering that barely looked a thing like him. When questioned on the name, he’d blustered about how _Jay_ was a much cooler name. Appealed to a younger, hipper demographic.

“Except you’re chronically _uncool,_ ” Elf pointed out with vicious glee.

Negatus tripped him in retaliation.

Debbie had to step in to prevent what was sure to have been a ridiculous fight.

Should have been a simple enough task, relatively speaking. Go in, make discreet inquiries about the location of a magical stone so it could be locked away for safekeeping before the locals realized how powerful it could be in the wrong hands. The magic equivalent of a nuclear bomb. Which was possibly _worse_ than a regular nuclear bomb. So, yeah. Pretty important to keep it in safe hands.

Funny how seldom she worried about whether or not James’ hands were the unsafe ones these days.

And now it had all gone wrong.

She shouldn’t have insisted that he accompany her when he was adamant that it was a bad idea.

He’d gone disguised in a ridiculously ill-fitting tan suit and pink shirt, the legs and arms just that bit too short. The disguise honestly should have been her first clue as to how worryingly-acquainted he was with this town. He was _very_ committed to his aesthetic.

The glasses were kind of cute, though, til he lost them in the pub.

So, here they were, stone in her pocket – such a stupidly tiny thing for how much trouble it could cause- trapped in an alleyway. All because James had to go and hit on the wrong person. Some woman whose parents he’d killed.

This apparently had happened before while wearing that stupid suit. Not the killing, the misguided flirting. He hadn’t done any killing for awhile. And Debbie wasn’t jealous about the flirting. Really.

Fine, maybe a little. But she didn’t have the right.

The best part was that they’d had to leave Nick behind when the woman’s husband had grabbed him and attempted to bash Negatus over the head. And they couldn’t really go back for him until the husband – now leading an angry mob- stopped wielding him as a weapon. Nick, to his credit, was still protesting a lot the last time they heard him.

Debbie just hoped they didn’t turn him into a torch.

“Dead end,” Elf said frantically, “We’re trapped.”

“We can probably jump the wall,” Debbie answered, looking up at it. “It’s not _that_ high.”

Still quite a ways above her head. There was a trash can to climb on, but moving it risked too much noise and would look suspicious, besides, should anyone notice its new location.

“James, give me a leg up, would you?”

At his insinuating look, she gave an irritated sigh; lacing her hands together to demonstrate.

“I _meant_ like this. Then hand Elf up to me. You’re alright to climb, yeah? I think I can pull you up if you can’t reach.”

“Course I can,” he answered, straightening up to his full height. As if she hadn’t noticed.

She’d noticed a lot. But that was beside the point. He’d still have to jump to get up there. 

“ _Still_ think I’m being paranoid,” he asked with unbecoming smugness as she stepped into his cupped hands.

“Sorry,” she said, rolling her eyes and pulling herself up.

Yes, he deserved the apology, but was it necessary to bring it up _now_?

On the other side of the wall, it would have been frying pan to fire. When Debbie’s head cleared the top, the fading sun revealed there was nothing but a dizzying drop of several thousand feet into the ocean. They’d reached the very edge of town.

Debbie let herself fall back down, unsurprised by now at James reaching to steady her.

“What you doing,” Elf squeaked in alarm. “We have to-”

“Not going that way unless you think you can swim away from the extreme high dive.”

The voices were getting louder. James gave a little whimper that Debbie kindly pretended not to hear.

Well, she could save Elf, at least. Picking him up, she dropped him into the garbage can and placed the lid lightly back on top. Hopefully, if the worst should happen, Elf would be able to tip it over and get himself out. He grumbled a bit but quickly subsided in the face of the obvious danger.

There was nothing else for it. Nowhere else to hide. Inwardly rolling her eyes at falling prey to the oldest cliché, Debbie seized James by his lapels and shoved him against the wall; rising slightly on her toes as she did so. He blinked down at her.

“What-” He started.

“I get in more trouble because of you,” she whispered, not without a little fondness mixed in the irritation.

Then she pressed her lips to his before she could think better of it. Praying the gathering darkness would render them unrecognizable as anything but two people snogging in an alley. And that no one on this side of her cupboard was aware of the trope’s existence. Wouldn’t ever _think_ that the two running from them would stop to make out. Too absurd. That’s not them, they'd be trying to scrunch up behind the trash. 

It was a crazy chance, but maybe...

He went along willingly. Too willingly and over-eagerly, in fact; immediately grabbing at her backside and pressing her far closer than she'd intended. 

His lips were soft and just a little bit chapped. She probably _should_ have kept her mouth sealed shut when he tried to slip her the tongue, but...it was nice. He wasn’t half bad. There were worse things to be doing in what might be her final moments.

If she were being honest, it wasn’t like she didn’t want to.

Debbie had to force her eyes to stay open, to watch for their pursuers even as her fingers tangled in his uncovered hair; crunchy with hair spray. The image of James primping and scrunching his hair made her giggle, the sound trapped somewhere between them.

When the group was safely past and the voices faded, she placed a hand on his chest to gently push him back.

“Just for the record, that was nothing.”

Because it _couldn’t_ be anything. James, by his own admission, wasn’t great with commitment. There might or might not be a child out there, somewhere. He honestly wasn’t sure, the results were inconclusive. Or so he said.

Sure, everyone said she _should_ be keeping things casual until she found the right person to bring into the twins’ lives. And rightly so. But starting anything with him could only be the worst, most confusing, mix of too casual and too much with how pitifully desperate he was for praise while dodging anything that resembled responsibilities. A third child in an – admittedly fit- adult body was _not_ what she was looking for.

Better not to risk their tentative camaraderie any more than she just had.

“No?” In the dim streetlight, she could just make out the way his brow furrowed in hurt confusion for a moment. “Yeah, yeah. No, I got that. It’s cool. It’s cool. I mean, I’m not turned on or anything. If that’s what you think.”

“Right,” Debbie said, shooting him a suspicious side-eye as she helped a scowling Elf back out of the trash can.

She gave James a wide berth as they made their cautious way back into the street, looking for a safe place to lie low until they could retrieve Nick.

“I’m not,” he insisted, trailing behind her.

“Okay,” she agreed, eager to drop the subject. There was an uncomfortable feeling in her chest, as if she’d deliberately kicked a puppy.

“Except I bloomin' well _am_. So thanks for that. What was that all about, anyway?”

The annoyed words were quiet, muffled. Part of her wanted to turn and ask what he’d said, just because it was funny to see him jump. The other didn’t want to face him just now.

But a little metaphorical demon on her shoulder convinced her to sway her hips just a little more. Just for the frustrated “phwoar,” that sounded from behind her.


End file.
